Achoo!
by Silawenyai
Summary: Arwen has pledged her immortality to Aragorn- but they've been wed for a while, and she's discovering that mortality stinks!! PG for absolutely NO reason at all. I was sick of all the A/L slash, Aragorn belongs to ARWEN, and NO ONE ELSE!
1. What's the Elven word for Tissues?

Hello! I'm back, in another futile attempt to write… something! I got rid of my other stories… but enjoy this one!!  
  
Summary: Arwen gave up her immortality for Aragorn… but was it worth it? Read the darn thing!  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own anything. The cold is mine, *coughgagchokebarf* but I don't want it. You can have it, if you like.  
  
Achoo!  
  
Chapter the first: What's the elven word for tissues?  
  
"Achoo!" The sneeze echoed about the castle, making King Aragorn wince. Poor Arwen. She had come down with a nasty cold. Normally elves didn't fall ill, but wedding him and giving up her immortality had come with some nasty side effects. It hadn't helped his beloved's disposition either.  
  
"Aragorn!" Arwen shrieked. She lay on her bed, surrounded by glasses of water, elven tissues, get well cards, and various other sentiments that meant only one thing- she was sick. Arwen couldn't care less about them. Sitting up- or trying, rather- she swept the ornaments adorning her chamber. Smiling at the tinkle of glass- the maid would have fits- she called again. "Aragorn, get here RIGHT NOW!" Where was her beloved?  
  
"Achoo! *coughsnifflecough* Achoo!" Aragorn crept slowly to her bedroom door. Arwen had a unrivaled temper, and being sick, she had no control over her anger. He opened the door slowly… only to close it again with a bang as Arwen chucked a ceramic vase at him. Through the door he mumbled, "That was made by the elves of Lothlorien," "Well, now it can serve as carpeting. My love, what took you so long?" Aragorn crept into the room, surveying the destruction. If Arwen had not been so weak from the illness that had befallen her, her room would have been completely defenestrated.* As it was, the grass outside was littered with bits of candy, cough drops and tissue boxes. "What is that you demand, beloved?" Aragorn sighed, defeated. "The window is open, the bed is the finest in the castle, you have all the food you need-" Arwen cut him off. "Don't be a fool, my love. I wish not to remain sick a moment longer. Do something!" She broke off into a bout of coughing. Aragorn looked concerned. "Beloved, 'tis just the common cold. There is no cure, but 'twill not last long. Thank all the gods it is not fatal!" Arwen sighed. He was right. "Elves are not supposed to fall ill," she complained, throwing off the covers. "It's not fair."  
  
"Life's not fair, beloved. My dear, it will not last long…" He trailed off, noticing Arwen's glare. "I know, 'tis unpleasant…" He was interrupted by Arwen's snore. She had fallen asleep.  
  
Sighing with relief- his love frightened him at times- he crept out. Running down the hallway, he crashed straight into his beloved's father- Elrond. "Many pardons, Lord Elrond," he stuttered. He might be king of Gonder, but Elrond was rather terrifying. Elrond chuckled. "No matter, young one. How is my daughter?"  
  
"She is fine, Lord Elrond. 'Tis just a cold."  
  
"Judging by the noise, and the shrieking of maids, she is not happy about it, is she?"  
  
"No, Lord Elrond, she is not." Elrond laughed. For Aragorn to make such a statement, it was obvious that the room she lay in would need to be rebuilt after she was well again. "Lord Elrond…?"  
  
"Yes, Estel?"  
  
"Why is Arwen ill? I thought elves could never fall sick." Elrond sighed. "I do not really know. Perhaps it has something to do with her pledging her immortality to you. It has not happened before, not for a very long time, even for the elves. I cannot say." Aragorn bowed his head. "Will it take longer for her to heal?" Elrond saw the pleading in his eyes- Arwen was dangerous, even ill, and being sick made her temper terrifying. "I do not know, Estel. I hope she will get well as soon as possible- for your sake, as well as the castle's." He swept off, in the opposite direction as Arwen's rooms. Aragorn sighed. This could be a long time, if Arwen is ill for much longer. He looked cautiously towards Arwen's chamber. She appeared to be sleeping, as no shrieks of rage issued forth. Aragorn began to smile. He was due to visit his friend, Prince Legolas of Mirkwood, soon. He would make preparations.  
  
So, do you like it? Should I continue? Please, feedback would be nice… The rabid pondslugs will attack you otherwise!! Muhuhahahaa!!!  
  
* Defenestration: To throw something out the window. Verb: Defenestrate. I defenestrated the annoying solicitor. 


	2. Aragorn Attempts Escape

Disclaimer: Same thing. Still don't own anything. My cold's getting better, however!  
  
Thanks for all the reviews!! *Note: Flames will be used to incinerate Arwen's perfume. Nothing more.  
  
Achoo!  
  
Chapter the Second: Aragorn attempts Escape  
  
"Aragorn?" Arwen had captured a good nights sleep- with the help of a few elven potions in her herbal teas- and was feeling a bit better. "Beloved, where are you?" Aragorn winced, and looked pleadingly at Elrohir. He, and his brother Elladan, were visiting Gondor with their father. Elrohir snickered. "Brother, you know very well the temper Arwen contains," Elladan said sternly, trying to keep from bursting into great gusts of laughter at the look on Aragorn's face. "Yes, we will go to her."  
  
"Tell her that I'm NOT here."  
  
"Where are you then?"  
  
"On my way to Mirkwood, to pay a visit to King Thranduil and Prince Legolas," Aragorn said firmly. A random maid/advisor/person of state popped (seemingly) out of nowhere. "Your Majesty!" she said, making a formal bow. "You cannot leave! There are affairs of state to be considered, the closest heir to the throne to be chosen, the gardens to be attended to…" Aragorn silenced her. "Arwen will attend to all that, she always does. I'm leaving." He had packed his bags, and was saddling his horse when he realized, Gods! Arwen's ill, that's why I'm fleeing…er, going to Mirkwood! He had a moment of panic, until he realized that Elrond, Elrohir and Elladan were also visiting, and- A crash sounded, as a large piece of furniture was defenestrated. He flinched. Arwen was feeling better. Feeling uneasy, for no particular reason, he mounted his horse and rode off.  
  
"What do you mean, Aragorn is in MIRKWOOD?" Arwen shrieking, chucking everything she could find at her older brother. Elladan dodged a particularly large elven vase, and grinned. Arwen hadn't changed a whit. Straightening, and attempting to look as regal as a half-elven lord should, (he failed, by the way) he said with dignity, "He is paying court to King Thranduil and Legolas." Arwen grimaced. "You STILL can't manage that 'blank courtier' look," she announced. Elladan sighed, and grinned widely. "And I suppose you can?"  
  
"That's not the point, Ell." She had long ago given up using her pet names for her older siblings, but still teased them with the dratted thing from time to time. Elladan and Elrohir hated it. "And what is the point? That you can't bear to be parted from your beloved a moment longer?" He dodged another vase, as Elrohir opened to door, to see if his brother had survived. He closed it again rapidly. "Don't be silly. I expect he thinks that I am to rule Gondor in his stead?"  
  
"I suppose he thinks that you do that anyways sister. Anyhow, he will not be gone long. Just a brief visit."  
  
"So he says."  
  
"Would he lie, about such a thing?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
In the meanwhile, Aragorn was regretting his decision to leave Gondor. It was raining. He had reached a small grove of trees that had come out of nowhere, and decided to rest a moment. At least HE wasn't wet, but he was convinced that The Sword that was Broken and Reforged was rusting. What was it about legendary swords that dampness was so attracted to? He sat down, and attempted to start a fire. And failed. Sighing, he began to polish he sword, though it was probably foolish. It was still raining. Suddenly he heard a noise in the brush, and two small, children sized figures toppled out. Aragorn suppressed a giggle at their appearance- one was small, red headed, and quite obviously female. The other was black haired, dirty, and carried a large bundle. The figures deposited it at his feet, and scampered off. Aragorn inspected the bundle cautiously. What could it possibly be? He realized, almost instantaneously, what it was.  
  
A cry rang out through a solitary grove. A few squirrels turned their heads, then paid no attention. But still it continued. "AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!"  
  
  
  
Cliffhanger, eh?? Muhuhahahahaaaa…. Who, me? Evil? Bwahahahaaa!!!!! R/R. OR THE EVIL BLOOD SUCKING RABID CARROT TOPS WILL GET YOU!!! MWAHUHAHAA!!!!!!!!! *What am I on? Wouldn't you like to know… OK, OK, I'll tell you…*whispers* CHOCOLATE CHIP COOKIES!!! MWAHAHAHA!!!!*  
  
((((((((((((((((((((((( See? They're happy!!! 


	3. Mudballs and *gasp!*

Yay! Everyone likes it! *dances around madly, clutching a sign that says in loud red letters "Warning: Seriously Deranged"*  
  
Disclaimer: I own nothing, except some yummy chocolate chip cookies, that are my mom's anyhoo! *cries*  
  
Thanks for the reviews… I'm taking you up on your suggestion!!  
  
Achoo!  
  
Chapter the Third: Mudballs and… *gasp!*  
  
Arwen snickered to herself as she sent the messenger off, post haste. If Aragorn could sneak off to Mirkwood for a bit of fun with old friends, she'd party right here in Gondor. She laughed to herself. Aragorn would be very, very, glad that he'd left his kingdom for a while.  
  
Aragorn, however, was far from happy. The bundle contained one of the most frightening things possible for nature to create. (A/N: Now, I'm only typing this once, for fear of stunning readers. *takes deep breath* OK. It's a… it's a… YOUNG HALVEING!!!!!! *faints*)  
  
Aragorn approached the… you-know-what cautiously yet again, from the bush he'd hidden in. The Thing was giggling madly. It sounded evil. Its cross- bred roots (part dragon, part one of those annoying yappy dogs that annoy you when you try to take a walk) were visible in its really ugly features. Aragorn flinched when it waved its odd looking paw. Arwen might be intimidating, but this thing seriously scared him. They were known to drown men in incinerating slobber, hide men in caves where they could never be seen again, cover them with an invisibility cloak so no one could see them… They had no effect upon the species of Females, as they are insusceptible to their wickedness. Men were different.  
  
"Aww, it's kind of cute!!" It was only a baby, after all, Aragorn reasoned. Maybe Arwen would let them keep it? Forgetting its evilness, he crept closer…  
  
In Gondor, the royal palace was a disaster. Odd garments, jewelry, and other tokens were scattered among halls, while the people quivered in fear or discovered urgent errands in Rohan. Their Monarch Queen, however, was oblivious of their terror. She, and her best friend, were locked in her room, giggling, as they exchanged stories. The giggles echoed over the empty halls, as the servants had fled.  
  
"And Faramir?" Arwen asked, snickering at her friends previous tale involving a cauldron of soup. "He's fine," her friend replied. "Though, I doubt his sword will ever be the same." Éowyn, the same woman who slew the Nagûl, chuckled. "I TOLD Beregond that the resin was laced with mithril, but did he listen?" Arwen sniggered. "Of course not," she agreed. "Éowyn, d'you want to go outside?"  
  
"To the gardens?" Éowyn's eye's danced mischieviously. "Of course," Arwen assured her.  
  
Arwen and Éowyn were both wearing fine robes of the best velvet and silk. They wore jewelry befitting ladies of their station, and grins befitting eleven-year-old boys about to eat a stolen chocolate cake. They both sat, waist deep, in soggy, smelly, chocolate brown mud. With a mudball in both hands.  
  
When the two friends stumbled back into the castle, bedraggled, wet, and covered from head to toe in unrecognizable glop, the guards would not let them in. "This is the palace of His Royal Highness, King Aragorn, and his Queen, Lady Arwen," he intoned, trying to sound regal and impressive. Arwen and Éowyn exchanged looks. The smile they wore was intimidating, to say the least.  
  
Elrond, Elladan, and Elrohir were interrupted from a conversation they were having with the Lord of Rohan by an unearthly shriek. Peering out a (smashed) window, they saw two giant, possessed balls of mud attacking five guards and a footman. Elrond groaned. "Excuse me," he said calmly to the Éoden, who was looking quite frightened. "I have some business to attend to. No, you stay here," he said to his sons, who were looking excited. "While Arwen is… not here, you must entertain Éoden."  
  
"WHAT ON EARTH DID YOU THINK YOU WERE DOING?" Elrond was, for the first time since Arwen had left for Lothlorien due to an incident he did not care to recall, perturbed. Arwen was not disturbed. She and Éowyn sat calmly, covered in muck, on some delicate satin chairs, in one of many chambers in the royal palace. "Merely having a game with my friend Éowyn," she remarked calmly. "YOU ATTACKED FIVE GUARDS AND A FOOTMAN!! ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR MIND??" Elrond was very annoyed. Very, very, VERY, annoyed. "Well, we did win Lord Elrond," Éowyn said, with a smug grin on her face. "Stewardess of Gondor, you have a duty to your Queen," Elladan remarked from a corner. Elrond glared at him. Ignoring his father, he went on, "It does not include throwing clods of mud at her servants."  
  
"You will pay for that," Arwen muttered.  
  
"It was nice knowing you." Elrohir was amused. "Arwen takes no prisoners." Elrond did not find that funny. "I did not. Ask. You." he hissed at his eldest son. "Arwen, this is disgraceful! The Queen of Gondor should not be playing. In. The. MUD!!!!!" He was breathing very hard now. Arwen exchanged a smile with Éowyn. They grinned. And, seemingly out of nowhere, they produced a bucket of mud. Elrond, Elladan, and Elrohir stared, wide-eyed, and stampeded towards the door. They didn't make it.  
  
Bwahaha! I am evil! Thanks so much for the idea!! And I will get back on the *gasp* YOU-KNOW-WHAT thing!!! Hahaha… what torments can I inflict on Gondor, Aragorn, Elrond and Mirkwood now? Don't worry, Legolas will make an appearance… covered in mud… 


	4. Green Gooey Mud

I'm baaaaaack!!! Guess what? I actually made that "Warning: Seriously Deranged" sign I talked about. My mom gave me one of those "how on earth are you my daughter" looks and told me I didn't really need it. Might have something to do with the fact that I was bouncing around shrieking "Chocolate" at the top of my lungs…  
  
Disclaimer: Why do you even ask?  
  
Achoo!  
  
Chapter the Fourth: Green Gooey Mud  
  
The castle was a complete wreck. Wall tapestries were torn and ragged, hallways were covered in mud, fountains were overturned, flower arrangements squashed. In the center, in a giant heap, lay four muddy bodies- three half-elven, one mortal- and over them stood a very smelly, dirty, slimy, disapproving Lord Elrond. Elladan, Elrohir, Arwen and Éowyn were breathing too heavily to understand Elrond's lecture. But it was clear that he was *NOT* amused.  
  
Aragorn sat, in a mud puddle, oblivious to the world. The rain had let up, but he was enchanted by the tiny baby. There was something odd about it… but Aragorn didn't really notice. It was so cute! He was too absorbed to even notice some shadowy forms slowly approaching… The bumped and rattled over the ground, quite suspicious to other eyes, but Aragorn was held captive by the odd infant…  
  
Legolas chuckled evilly. He had worked for *AGES* on these figures: getting the palace weavers to make life-like fur and skin, modeling them after dreaded creatures. A few paltry magicians had been glad to create a calling spell for a purse of gold. Those were basic, and Legolas had plenty to pay. He didn't stint on practical jokes.  
  
Aragorn suddenly looked up. He was surrounded by full grown monsters. He had been tricked by the infants spell. He would never be seen again! He let out a blood curdling, girlish scream. "EEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!"  
  
Legolas could no longer contain his mirth. He motioned to the puppeteers to step away from the 'monsters', who therefore collapsed into a heap of metal, wood, and animal skins. Legolas laughed. Stepping forward, he nearly collapsed like the animals at the look on his friend's face. Aragorn looked confused, terrified, and ready to murder someone. Him.  
  
Laughing hysterically, Legolas came a bit closer. "Frightened- hahahaohdearohhehee- King Aragorn? Oh, hahahaheeah!!" Aragorn glared at him. He had learned a few things from Arwen. Legolas was too busy laughing to notice. "You should—aha, hahaa—should see… look on your face!" he giggled, doubling over with laughter. "Your face… you… you…" he slipped, and fell hard, right into one of the numerous puddles of mud. A green, smelly, moldy, slippery puddle of mud.  
  
Legolas looked shocked for a moment, then both Aragorn and he began to laugh again. They rolled about in the mud, laughing hysterically. The puppeteers gave each other frightened looks, and began edging away. When they reached the nearest tree, they ran. Fast.  
  
Legolas finally stood to get up. "Well, King of Gondor, that was quite amusing."  
  
"Yes, Prince Legolas, you gave me quite a scare. I escaped Gondor to avoid such a mess, and now…" he looked ruefully at the ruined remains of his scarlet embroidered cape. He preferred Ranger garments, but as King… He began to stand, but promptly slipped again. Grabbing Legolas' tunic as he fell, soon both King and Prince were covered in mud. And mud, they discovered, made wonderful balls.  
  
In the palace, both elven-lord, Stewardess, and Queen bore the same rainment as King and Prince. Middle Earth had entered mud season.  
  
Do you like? Please review… sorry if it's a bit short. Me like it! Me off to go steal some more cookies to produce more random bizzarity!! Mwahahaa!!!  
  
REVIEW! OR THE EVIL POND SLUGS WILL SUCK YOUR BLOOK! BWAHAHA!! 


	5. Bathtime for Everyone!

Glad everyone likes it so much! The Arwen/Éowyn thing was based on a true event… when a friend and I had a major mudfight in our woods… I spent two hours combing rocks and twigs out of her hair!  
  
Diclaimer: *sighs* Do we really have to go through this again?  
  
Achoo!  
  
Chapter the Fifth: Bathtime for everyone!  
  
As the muddy king of Gondor and prince of Mirkwood set forth in the general direction of Mirkwood's palace, Éowyn and Arwen were locked in a bathroom in Gondor. With two giant tubs of bubbling water.  
  
Éowyn and Arwen were hardly recognizable as two young women, one elven, one human, rulers of a giant realm. They resembled, rather, a giant clod of wet, slimy, soil. Each of them stared at the tubs of hot water. Then they slowly began to grin. They looked at each other slowly, then…  
  
"AAAAAH!!!!" *SPLASH!* *CRASH!* *WHOOSH!* The entire bathroom was now redecorated in muddy, hot water. Éowyn and Arwen sat in the tubs, fully dressed, giggling at the chamber's new wallpapering. The floor had been covered with a tidal wave of bathwater. A few attendants stopped, several floors down, as water dripped from the ceiling. Shaking their heads, for they knew the personalities of Gondors Queen and Stewardess, they left the room.  
  
Arwen, meanwhile, had a very frightening grin on her face. A second too late, Éowyn realized what she had in mind. "Oh no, oh no, OH NO!!!!" Arwen over turned Éowyn's tub, spilling woman, mud, water, and soap all over the floor. Éowyn stood up, shaking. Arwen looked worriedly at her. "Éowyn? Are you all right?" Éowyn's voice shook, and sounded odd. "Yes… fine…" Arwen realized that she was laughing. And tried to hide.  
  
The two women left the bathchamber wet, bedraggled, and not much cleaner than they were when they entered the place. Both were exhausted, so Arwen bid Éowyn farewell, and retired to her chambers. Éowyn flopped on the bed in the room that had been specially prepared for her. Both slept, and all of Middle Earth sighed in relief.  
  
In the meantime, Aragorn and Legolas had arrived at the royal castle in Mirkwood. Seeing the prince's muddy state, the guards ushered them in a side door- King Thranduil was in a temper that would not be improved by his son and friend's slimy appearance.  
  
When both King and Prince were situated in bathrooms rather the same as the one that Arwen and Éowyn had just destroyed, the servants left them. Aragorn was just sinking into his well-deserved bath, when a muddy, soggy garment hit him across the face. A door across the hall was open, facing his bath chamber. In it, Legolas sat in a tub identical to Aragorns, laughing his head off. Aragorn considered the closeness of his legendary sword. Anduril would probably object to slicing the ears off a hysterical royal elf, so he did the only thing he really could.  
  
When the servants came to clean up after the Royal Prince of Mirkwood, and King of Gondor, they all sighed. Muddy clothing was strewed about the chambers, hallways and bathtubs. The bathtubs no longer held water. The halls did.  
  
"Éowyn?" A knock on the door woke the woman. "What is it?" she mumbled, turning over for a bit more sleep. "'Tis Arwen. Are you hungry?" The woman sat up in bed. A nightgown had been placed next to her, the tact of a servant who had noticed Éowyn's muddy gown. "Yes, I am. Just a moment." Éowyn slipped off the gown, and put on the nightdress. "You may come in know, the door's not locked," Arwen slipped in, with a tray of food. "I swiped it off a serving girl," she said with a wicked grin. "I'm not up to a formal dinner, since it's just me and you. Aragorn's not here, and I'm not entertaining. The servants can have the banquet room if they like." She uncovered the food, and Éowyn's stomach rumbled at the sight. Arwen had 'swiped' quite a lot of food, several loaves of fresh-baked bread, a plate of fresh summer berries, a wheel of cheese from the royal dairy, and a pitcher of milk from the Queen's royal cows. "Eat," Arwen instructed, placing some food before her. "We can talk later."  
  
Aragorn and Legolas were banished to the kitchen to eat, as Thranduil was still infuriated. "Hangover, most probably," Legolas told his friend, biting into a chunk of bread. Aragorn was too busy eating to reply, elven food was something to be taken seriously. "My father drinks too much." Lembas was served with the meal, as it had been since the War of the Ring. Aragorn took a piece and dunked it in his fruit juice. "Is that good?" Legolas asked, staring at the soggy bit of elven way-bread. "S'good," Aragorn mumbled around a mouth of it. Legolas daintily dunked a tip of lembas in his own juice. "Ick. How can you eat such stuff?"  
  
"Men have a stomach of steel," Argorn confided, as he stirred cheese with his roasted chestnuts. "And we all know machines have bad taste," Legolas said, wincing as the king combined some very odd things with his wine. Aragorn merely laughed.  
  
Like? Do you want me to do a Éowyn/Arwen slumber party type thing? It'd give Aragorn a shock when he returned… I'm thinking a few more chapters'll do it. Maybe Éowyn and Faramir could move in? Aragorn'd probably resign… Also, I'm looking for ideas for another story. Reviews now please! *puppy dog eyes* 


	6. Food fight!

And the madness continues!!!  
  
Disclaimer: I. Own. Nothing. Duh.  
  
Achoo!  
  
Chapter the Sixth: Food fight!!  
  
"Mellon, what is the time?" Éowyn groaned, and rolled over. They had both slept on the floor, which had consequently covered them in mud, wet clothing, food, and feathers.  
  
Éowyn mumbled something. "Hm?"  
  
"I think it's probably breakfast time," Éowyn muttered, sitting up and rubbing her eyes against the sun. Arwen was searching through the wardrobe, in search of something. She stopped, and grabbed something. She surveyed Éowyn with a critical eye. "You can hardly wear that to breakfast. Father will have a fit," Éowyn looked down ruefully at her mud-and-food spattered gown. "Here, this is much more comfortable than that dress."  
  
Arwen tossed a tunic and breeches to Éowyn, who put them on. "I agree. Much better. I believe I can actually walk in these," Arwen pulled on a dark green tunic, with clashing blue breeches. Éowyn snickered. "Do people actually wear those?" Arwen looked at her outfit. "I do, apparently. They're comfortable!"  
  
"They're nothing else," Éowyn commented, surveying her own costume- a yellow tunic with light green breeches. "Lord Elrond will have fits."  
  
"Nay, he's used to it by now." Arwen giggled. "Besides, he knows that, as Queen of Gondor, I can do whatever I please." Éowyn grinned evilly. Arwen buckled a belt about her waist, and tossed one to Éowyn. They smiled, and began to walk downstairs. If Gondor was ready, or not, they were coming.  
  
  
  
Legolas and Aragorn were both on horses, riding slowly back to Gondor. They jabbered away, oblivious to the rest of the world- and, truth be told, a bit reluctant to return. Aragorn had left in a hurry, Arwen would not be pleased.  
  
Elrond, Elladan, and Elrohir had fled the hall- er, gone out to the garden- when Éowyn and Arwen came down. The table was still laden with food, which they attacked with vigor. Arwen was biting into a slab of cheese-covered bread, when she was hit in the face with a pickled beet. Éowyn sniggered softly at the end of the table, as she dug into a pile of fruit. Suddenly, a bowl of mush was upended on her head. Spluttering, she reached for the nearest thing to throw at Arwen- a cauldron of soup.  
  
Bang! Bang! Bang! The noise echoed down the hall, and the two women paused in their food fight. The room was unrecognizable under pulverized fruit, splattered wine, and soup. Bang! Bang! Bang! Arwen uttered a most unladylike curse. "'Tis the King of Isengard," she said, answering Éowyn's puzzled look. "You know of which I speak, that stuffy old ruler of the lands that Saruman owned before his death." Éowyn grimaced. A grin slowly spread over Arwen's face. "We'll give him a proper greeting!"  
  
King Barandur, Lord of Isengard and all the lands surrounding, was greeted by two soup-covered, breech wearing ladies. They both wore identical grins, and mischief was etched in both pairs of eyes. With deep trepidation, he entered. That was the worst mistake he ever made.  
  
Aragorn uttered a curse that deeply resembled Arwen's colorful language. "What is it?" Legolas asked, interrupted in his speech about another perfect maiden who tried- and failed- to make him fall in love with him. "I just remembered- the King of Isengard is visiting today!"  
  
"And what of that?" Legolas wanted to know. "Arwen is there, is she not?"  
  
"Aye, that is was I was afraid of," Aragorn muttered darkly. "I think that there will be no trade route." They quickened their pace.  
  
"Oh, yes, Lord Barandur, we're quite well provided," Éowyn tittered. The poor King looked quite puzzled. One moment they were warrior sword-maidens, the next giggling girls. "Of course," Arwen added, "Aragorn does none of the work. Leaves it all to me, and the cats," She indicated some rather bored looking felines draped about the room.  
  
"Um.." King Barandur didn't know what to say. "I'm sure you do… quite a good job?" These women made him nervous. And there was a large vase full of water in the back of the room.  
  
When Aragorn and Legolas finally arrived, it had begun to rain. Again. A flurry of soaking wet, muddy, messy, velvet and silk rushed out the castle window, ran up to a large horse, and galloped away. In the background, two women were doubled over with laughter. "Oh, dear," Legolas muttered. Aragorn thought of several things to say, but "Oh, dear," was not one of them.  
  
"Greetings, husband, and to you, Prince Legolas." Arwen's voice was sweet- frighteningly so. "Did you enjoy your journey?" Éowyn sniggered. There was still plenty of honey in the larder. And plenty of mush to put it in. 


End file.
